"Getting their attention is easy, you just need to hold it. But that doesn't concern you. Just make sure it's quick, then move on. You'll know when I wink."
A plume is seen far off in the distance, but what will it turn out to be when it gets closer? Only time will tell.
An army can be compared to a craftsmen. Both produce for gain. A craftsmen produces a product, a good, for monetary gain. An army, however, produces corpses for resource acquisition. Be it on the battlefield or in the medical tent with the severely wounded being put out of their misery, the fillers of graves are being produced.
Any mind of the modern age has thought about putting those bodies to work. Necromancy has long been socially inacceptable. Besides, no one enjoys seeing a former comrade, a former brother-in-arms, walking around fighting and killing with a spear hole in his gut and a couple arrows hanging from the arms. And the only other way was to throw the dead body into a catapult and throw it at the enemy, in the hopes of giving them plague.
It was Obstarian military who first unleashed the Raveten on their foes during the World War. No one was prepared for it. And so people died.
The most common form of body armor in the Cosmic Era, also the cheapest
Like the mythical hydra, the Illuminati have many heads and even more hands. The minions of the Illuminati might work to their hidden master's ends without ever knowing the design of their work, or for whom they indeed work for.
A magic system based on Yin Yang, the Five Elements (Wu Xing) and the Eight Symbols (Ba Gua)
Perhaps they were once natural beasts, but natural beasts cannot survive the wastes of Corpsefall. No, this beast is far from natural, and for that, I believe nature is grateful.
When the barbarian increase their raiding of Tauria, the King of Tauria decides that hiring a couple of lowlife mercenaries (the PCs) is his best option to fix the problem.
This dusty, delapidated building appears to have been abandoned for some time. Within it is a plethora of ancient tomes and ancient knowledge, however rumours of a deadly curse keep curious scholars at bay.
The lost story of the pommel stones.
There are three ways to live. And living them well, living them with purpose, allows you to die easy.
The cover depicts a stylized rose with one drop of blood dripping from one of its thorns.
(But is there more than meets the eye with this book, of bloody course there is!)
Herein lies the histories of Warpriest Lazarus, righteous fist of Tridoa. Lord Lightward the Lunar Hammer.
Herein lies the birth of Lazarus Lightward the Hellpriest; Trickster of Devils and Master of the Bloodied Moon.
Those sissy boys in the army, they gotta have their 'bots and guns, shiny vehicles and iron suits. Me, I don't need none of that. I've got everything I need on me.
Cagle, Claremont Class Biomod Mercenary
A mythical tale in wide circulation within the Dragon Empire about the Dragon, one of the First, and its Nine Off-springs
What used to BEE the crown of an old dwarven king has now BEEn made a portable BEE-hive.
Spindly, steel spiders, spinning silk so sharp. (100-word sub)
A scroll of rumours, Chinese Whispers style
30 cult members, of varying levels of sanity and skill. Divided into Guilds for convenience and clarity. Could potentially be used as 30 gang members, depending on your needs.
Found, normally, deep in the swamp, the Friar's Weed's poison is something to be watched for.
Cold Comfort is a long-sword of star-steel, its blade giving off a wan, blueish light. Its grip is wrapped tightly in snow-serpent hide, and its pommel bears a single opalescent gemstone.
This blade is enchanted in such a way, that whoever wields it, begins to fall completely and irrevocably "in love" with the weapon. This love does not manifest itself as the expected reverence and bond formed between any warrior and his weapon, but as a deeper, truer love, one has for a soul-mate of the same species! The longer the wielder carries Cold Comfort the stronger and more disturbing this love becomes, and only the most powerful of magicks can potentially break the sword's insidious spell. The blade's owner will even speak to and coo to the weapon, convinced that the sword understands and returns this epic love.
If the blade's wielder somehow loses the weapon or has it taken away, they will become inconsolable, and will predictably go to "ends of the earth and back" to retrieve it at any cost. Such is the weapon's curse that even separation from it does not damper the feelings the owner has for the sword. Legends tell of several distraught and mind-addled knights who even years after losing the blade, still wander the country-side searching for their lost love. And woe be to the "new lover" if and when they find him or her.